Dawn opened gently around us, the sky a clear wash of blue without a single breath of wind. We slipped into the still water for a quiet swim, the surface smooth as glass, cool against our skin. Afterward, with sunlight warming our backs, the day stretched wide and unhurried as we turned to the small chores waiting for us.
Touch up the paint hiding a few scratches. Cleaning the fridge and vacuuming. The hardest one was cleaning the hull. With us not sailing as much as we should, the slime and barnacles have started to grow. I only spent an hour scraping the hull before I had had enough. I will have to do some more another day.
Not long after I’d finished, a soft tapping came from the hull, as if something below were knocking for our attention. When we leaned over the side, the water shimmered and parted to reveal a handful of broad, gleaming fish, feasting on the last scraps of barnacles clinging to the boat. I could almost hear every fisherman I know shaking their heads, insisting we should’ve dropped a line the moment we saw them.